


Just Say the Word and I’ll Part the Sea

by AlexWSpark



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Mush, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Sugar Daddy Yuuri Katsuki, Vicchan Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-05-03 18:46:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14575290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexWSpark/pseuds/AlexWSpark
Summary: A Sugar Daddy AU (written be me, so my regulars know this a fluff-fest): Yuuri is a grinding video game director. Viktor is a struggling jack of all trades. Both are burning at both ends. They meet each other on a night filled with promise, and when two fireworks collide, more than sparks will fly.





	1. 3...2...1...

**Author's Note:**

> A few weeks ago, I ranted on Twitter that there wasn't enough Sugar Daddy!Yuuri in the fandom, so I decided to write some :) This AU will be done as drabbles as my time is limited as of late, and I'm aiming to update regularly (sorry in advance if I slip up). A lot of it is already mapped out since Aj and I amassed about 13 pages of notes, and I'm treating this fic as pure stress relief and fun. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for your support!

Yuuri sits in his snazzy high-rise office, the corner of which is suffused in the incandescent glare of three desktop screens and a backlit laptop. It’s ten p.m. and there’s no one left on the floor but him, a growing trend given the many milestone deadlines that inundate his calendar. He blinks at the psychedelic, color-coded mess; specifically the blazing red alert set for two days from now. And...he sighs, twisting sideways in his chair so he can gaze at the moonlit ocean outside. It’s a vantage he enjoys, and one that reminds him to smile, especially given Chris’ recent suggestion that he say ‘fuck it all’ to their current crunch, and take a skinny dip instead.

But there’s no taking his mind off of his directorial obligations. After spending the day with a team caught in the stampede of a severe laryngitis outbreak that affected not only a contingent of staff but also two of their key voice actors, Yuuri is barely able to peel himself off the floor. They managed to source one replacement for a supporting character, but a second for the protagonist, the person they’re banking on to set the tone for the AAA video game, eludes them.

He ruffles his hair, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Maybe a skinny dip isn’t such a bad idea.

His ringtone pulls him up, like a puppet on strings. “M-M-Minako,” he tries and fails to contain a yawn. “Still up?”

“It’s impossible to sleep when you keep pinging my damn email.” It’s as though her hand reaches through the phone to swot him. “Go home, Yuuri. We did all we could today. I’ll follow up with the agencies tomorrow and hopefully we’ll find someone to cover for North over the next two weeks. In the meantime,” she talks over his attempt to interrupt her, “you need to sleep.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“This is within my pay grade. And if you send one more email tonight, I’ll fire you.”

“Of course you will,” Yuuri chuckles. “I’m leaving in five minutes, I promise. See you tomorrow, Minako.”

He slides the phone onto his desk, and powers down his computers, stomach joining the listless fray to remind him that he hasn’t eaten since lunchtime, and that four pudding cups do _not_ count as sustenance. Those incessant grumbles settle his plans for the night. There’s a twenty-four-seven diner on the way to his condo, one that serves a berry-stuffed french toast that could woo the devil. He’ll pop in for a quick bite, and then head home to crash for a few hours of much needed rest.

His eyes find the glittering ocean again, and he exhales slow and wistful. It’s a pity, living so close to such a sight but finding no time to indulge it. Yuuri walks towards the door with another protracted sigh, concentrating instead on the diversion that is the sweet treat that’s only five minutes away.

 

* * *

Victor shifts on the rumpled pull-out bed, folders arced around his crossed-legged position, numbers and letter converging in front of his eyes as he stares holes into them. Pins and needles hop from spot to spot on his instep, and when the speed of it is too much to ignore, he leaves the dent in his mattress to stand and stretch. His toes writhe and his neck lolls, the relief he craves just out of reach of his stiff muscles. The crack never comes, but a hoard of aches do and with them, worry.

He leans against the chipped and peeling chest of drawers, swallowing hard as though this is something he can digest and expel from his body. But his perpetual sense of distress doesn’t work that way. One glance at the bills on his bed sets his pulse racing. By his (fifth) calculations, the priorities are night school, Yakov’s medication, and the maintenance fee for the retirement home they’re both lodging in...and he has to pick two.

The choice was made since he first punched the numbers, but for a minute or two, he thought there might be a way. His paycheck from that shitty commercial he did for the budget home store came through, and Victor imagined taking Yakov out to the movies, maybe splitting a sundae at the homey diner near the waterfront. The stop sign came in the form of the new heart tablets Yakov’s doctor prescribed him, and Victor could only massage his chest sadly, willing the knots away while his emotions rose in his throat and glossed over his eyes.

The door to their compact apartment is closed now, and Victor allows the tears to fall, furniture creaking with the burden of him and his troubles. It’d been so long since he and his uncle did anything fun; and while Yakov would insist that he’s too old for that life, thank you very much, Victor wishes for that luxury, _any_ luxury really, that gives them a few hours of freedom from the retirement home.

A pair of muffled voices and soft giggling seep into the room from the hallway, and Victor quickly shakes his head and steels his heart. He gathers all the documents in a haphazard pile, hiding them away with his textbooks in the bottom drawer. A peek in the mirror to hurriedly palm at his wet cheeks is all he’s permitted before the door swings open, and a thoroughly amused Lilia, one of the home’s nurses, escorts Yakov in, arm-in-arm.

“I think you picked up one too many second hand joke books for your uncle, Victor.” Lilia says sweetly. “He’s done nothing but disrupt my evening with his horseplay.”

“You always complain that the night shifts are boring, and I was trying to be your  _knight_ in shining armor.” Yakov keeps a straight face while Lilia releases a ridiculous snort. “Get it?”

“That is a terrible pun,” Victor laughs, and hoarsely so. It doesn’t go unnoticed; the lines on Yakov’s forehead deepen as he studies him.

“Everything okay, Victor?”

“Yes. Yes, just thinking about a paper I have to write for class.” His lies form like clockwork now, and even though he knows Yakov can see right through his bullshit, Victor stays the course. “Do you need the room, Lilia?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you. I have to do a simple check-up, which I would’ve gotten done earlier if you weren’t such a menace, Mr. Feltsman.”

They’re beaming at one another and despite the strain dragging Victor’s heart into the depths, he smirks. What else can he do around these two, sappy lovebirds?

“Don’t mind me,” he teases, grabbing his jacket from the headboard and strolling to the door. “I’m going to take a walk, okay? I’ll be back in an hour.”

Yakov pats him on the arm as he passes, and Victor leans against his shoulder for a couple of seconds before continuing on. There’s no doubt that a conversation looms between them, and Victor could use the fresh air to untangle his thoughts. Maybe he’ll take a walk to the waterfront to look out at the brilliant full moon, or maybe he’ll take advantage of the free house brews from the diner there.

It’s nothing fancy, but it just might be the escape he needs tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and love welcome <3
> 
> [Follow me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/AlexWSpark)   
>  [Find me on Tumblr](https://alexwspark.tumblr.com/)


	2. A Big Pizza Pie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the adorable mounts to [Aj](http://ajwolf84.tumblr.com/) for the beta <3

Yuuri hears the impression before he sees the man.

It wades through the diner’s ambience to prickle at his ears, and warms him as generously as his french toast did earlier. But, he doesn’t act. The voice strikes him as wholly improbable, and provokingly so, which is why he doesn’t immediately tilt his head and glance over his shoulder at what might be a figment of his imagination. He’s experienced many instances like this over his long career. The many flecks of grey scattered through his dark hair can be accounted for by referencing these oasis-in-the-desert solutions that turn out to be nothing more than a sleep-deprived mirage.

It doesn’t help that he poured an unholy amount of syrup over his dinner, admiring it with the delirious happiness of someone who should be sleeping and not overwhelming their system with sugar. He sliced into the decadence, almost keeling over when he spooned a mound of fruit, cream cheese, and cinnamon-rich toast into his mouth. The effect on his brain was instantaneous. He spent a solid fifteen minutes chatting with Pauline, the owner of _Aurene’s,_ while work took a rare backseat. Between the sitcom reruns on the television, the quiet buzz of the few surrounding patrons, and Pauline recounting her cat’s never-ending adventures locking herself in the bathroom, it was a pleasant end to a very long day.

He’s sipping forcibly on some ginger tea (age has _not_ been kind to his digestive system), scrolling through his Whatsapp messages with the pet hotel, and all the updates of Vicchan they’ve sent him. Usually, he brings his spritely toy poodle to the office. But they’re ramping up staff for the next stage of the game’s development, and Yuuri doesn’t want to see him smothered in such a hectic environment. He sends his thanks and a string of heart emojis for the pictures, counting down the days to his work-from-home shift when they’ll be reunited.

“Can I have the bill, please?” Yuuri gestures to Pauline beyond the counter, and to his surprise, she shakes her head.

“It’s already covered under Minako’s tab.” She fusses with her curls and grins, blush radiant against her dark skin. “She figured you’d stop by before you went home, so she called ahead. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, she’s studio head for a reason. I still don’t know how she does it.”

Yuuri throws his back, laughing. “I should’ve seen that coming. Thanks, Pauline.” Yuuri points to his beverage with an intense frown; they both know that it’s a necessity when he carb loads at this hour of the night. “I’m going to try to finish this pseudo-tea and then head out.”

“Take your time.” The door behind them jingles and Pauline looks past Yuuri with an energetic wave. “Hi, Victor! Another late night, I see.”

“Hey, Pauline. Just passing through. Is the coffee still hot?”

“I just brewed a fresh pot.” Pauline winks at Yuuri, and leaves him to pout over his drink, mostly removed from the conversation that’s within his earshot. “Been a while, hun. How’s your uncle doing?”

“Better. Much better. This smells really good, thanks.”

“If you want anything else, let me know.” A waitress pokes her head around the kitchen double doors and Pauline bustles away to help her. The man begins talking again, and Yuuri distantly notes that he seems to be on the phone, and in the middle of some kind of excitement.

“Why are you all still awake? Gossiping? It’s not like Lilia and my uncle keep things PG around St. Joseph's.” A pause and then, the voice goes low. “Wait, why is everyone whispering? Oh my God, Olivia, are you all outside the door right now? I am not a part of this! Not even my impressions can save you if Lilia catches you.” Laughter is stifled, and he continues, incredulous. “Right, Alfred. Because shouting ‘It’s a me, Mario!’ is the ideal response if they were to step outside and find you lurking.” There’s a slap of skin, and a long groan. “I was being sarcastic!”

Yuuri does a brief jig in his seat on hearing the iconic line. It’s done so seamlessly; in an instant he goes from beloved Italian plumber to a mix of local and an accent that Yuuri can't yet place, no pauses or even a tiny croak that’s common for most non-professionals. The remainder of his beastly tea is given a hint of sweetness because of it, and Yuuri smiles to himself.

He drains the mug, drops a thick roll of bills into the tip jar, and rubs his eyes under his glasses. The pull of a bath infused with Cheer Up, Buttercup and the snug warmth of his bed, coupled with that delightful video game easter egg will definitely take him home in a good mood.

And then Yuuri hears it:

“No! ‘You must never go there, Simba’. Remember when you broke the flower pot spying on Eve? You all never learn.”

Yuuri blinks, swallows too quickly, and goes into a harsh coughing fit. That impression, that _accuracy_ , the incredible depth and weight of it…what. The. _Fuck_.

As if to drive it all home for Yuuri, a rather obnoxious jingle begins playing on the television, one that’s been polluting the airwaves for weeks. And suddenly, his world is in full stereo as that same voice sandwiches him, the advertising version with only an inkling of an accent, while the one in the diner releases an indignant huff.

“Ugh. Not that commercial again. Remember? It was the one for that new fruit drink. That’s very sweet Vinaya, but it was terrible," the man says, almost like a confirmation for Yuuri’s volley of thoughts.

Two things happen as Yuuri processes this extraordinary shot of luck; 1) The professional side of him is serenaded in slow motion by ‘when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie’ and 2) He _spins_ in his chair to face the man, close to toppling over as he all but prepares to tackle the person who he still thinks is too good to be true.

Said person, platinum hair waved at the ends and body somewhat slumped in the booth, is smiling wide as he speaks. That geniality doesn’t quite reach his eyes though, the light of which are shaded by the bags circling them. It soon occurs to him that he’s somehow drawn attention to himself, and he looks up at Yuuri, phone hovering away from his ear.

“Hold on one second, guys. Excuse me, can I help you?”

Yuuri sometimes forgets to preface his actions with a disclaimer or five, and the realization that he’s staring, wide-eyed and awed, at a complete stranger ricochets in the form of a challenging and rather daunting glare. Stormy ocean-blue brings Yuuri back to earth, but instead of reining himself in, he strides towards the man, rests his hands firmly on the table, and says:

“I need you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes and teases about the AU:
> 
> 1\. Yuuri is 35, Victor is 30  
> 2\. Yuuri is a Video Game Director  
> 3\. Minako is the Creative Director and Studio Head for the studio Yuuri works at  
> 4\. Victor has done odd jobs over the last twelve years  
> 5\. Yakov and Victor have lived together since Victor was 19 
> 
> Comments, kudos and love welcome <3
> 
> [Follow me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/AlexWSpark)   
>  [Find me on Tumblr](https://alexwspark.tumblr.com/)


	3. Come to Me and Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the cookies to [Aj](http://ajwolf84.tumblr.com/) for the beta <3

The silence is taut, a slingshot pulling harder and tighter, ready to unleash some surprise or the other upon Victor’s life. He veers back into the candy-cane striped booth, body pressing hard into the cushioning as he comes to terms with the impassioned stare that’s strengthened tenfold by a rich splash of spiced brown. What is he supposed to do or say? The man has to be mistaken, or else they’re on some reboot of Candid Camera, and Victor is the butt of a very unwelcome joke. His day was less than passable, he’s down to his last pair of clean underwear, he’s pretty sure there’s cobweb camouflaged in his hair, and all he wanted was an hour to himself to breathe.

His shock steps back in favor of disapproval for the man’s interruption, a sentiment he’s about to voice when his phone erupts with voices and startles them both.

“Heeee-llo!” Olivia sings, and Victor envisages pitching his damn phone into the sea. “My, my, Victor. I thought you were just talking a walk?”

“That was a very bold statement indeed,” Alfred concurs with a light cough. “I agree with that kind of approach. Lay everything out on the table, absolutely no bullshit necessary. Two for you...hmm...what’s the young man’s name, Victor?”

“I haven’t heard passion like that since my second wife,” Vinaya says, and her whistle is loud enough that Victor has no defense against the blush that blots his neck. He’s almost grateful to see a bit of second-hand pink in the man’s own cheeks. “You’re too sweet, you know that, Victor? You didn’t have to take the call if you were _busy_.”

“He can’t see you winking, Vee,” Olivia breaks into laughter. “Go have fun, sweetheart. We’re so sorry we interrupted you.”

“Please do,” Vinaya seconds. “It’s like my first husband used to say, ‘my tongue is best occupied between your legs and buried inside your p-’”

“Goodnight, everyone.” A door creaks open, and Lilia’s voice creates another, much more consequential hush. Victor drops his face into his hand and _dies_.

“We came to tell you about, Victor!” Alfred blurts dramatically.

“Excuse me? What about my boy?” Yakov’s gruff question has Victor smiling into his palm.

“Oh, he’s more than fine, he’s–”

“If that’s the case, then there’s no need to change the subject, is there?” Lilia says pointedly. “What are you all doing outside _this_ door?”

Victor, combs his hand through his hair and makes his escape. “Well, good luck, guys. See you soon.”  He ends the call, sighs, albeit with less strain than a few minutes ago, and looks to the man once again. His hands are pocketed now, and he seems to have taken a couple steps back. But while there’s a certain level of modesty in his abashed smile, he continues to regard Victor with fiery intent.

“First, let me apologize for just now,” the stranger says. “I didn’t mean to disturb you, and I definitely didn’t mean to invade your personal space like that.”

Victor rolls his phone over in his hands and nods, still unsure of what to make of all of this. “Apology accepted.”

“Second, my name is Yuuri Katsuki. I work with _Atomic Heart Games_ , and I’m the director for a yet to be announced title. Long story short, I would like to offer you an opportunity to audition as a voice actor for our protagonist. It’s a temporary contract, since our main voice actor has laryngitis and is out of commission for a while. But considering what I just heard from you and the television, you’ll be perfect for the main character. I’m assuming that you already have a SAG membership?”

Yuuri’s enthusiasm dazzles all over again, mid-introduction, and by his closing question, it’s as though they’re right back at ‘I need you’. Victor cycles through a thousand thoughts and emotions, the brunt of them secreted away between the dogeared and fraying pages of his textbooks. Hope springs eternal after all, even though he received three rejections earlier that week from potential gigs, and one ‘maybe’, though that particular interviewer spent far too much time ogling him for comfort.

There’s nothing so sinister in Yuuri’s gaze. It’s filled to bursting with respect, something Victor can’t quite reconcile with his own critique of himself.

“I know this is sudden,” Yuuri says, and Victor’s mouth twitches with a would-be smile of agreement. There’s a softness to Yuuri that balances the fire in his eyes. “You don't know me, it’s eleven p.m, and we’re both clearly in need of sleep, but...can we talk? I just need a half hour. Maybe. Oh fuck, who am I kidding? There’s a reason they don't let me sit in on interviews too often.”

Victor cocks his head, admittedly charmed. “Do you usually go around offering strangers in diners work?”

“I really don't.” Yuuri tips back on the heel of his shoes, and smiles. “I'm half expecting you to curse me out for being such a pest.”

“I did have a few words in mind before but…” Victor fiddles with the crack in his phone case. “I’m Victor. And, no offense, but all I did was a Mufasa impression–”

“And Mario.”

“Okay. Yes. Two impressions. But anyone can do that,” Victor reasons. “The Lion King is classic cinema, and Mario is an icon. Those alone can't be enough to justify...um.” Victor finds he can't repeat Yuuri’s three words. “What you said before.”

“Well, well, well, what are you all up to?” Pauline saunters from the kitchen, growing smile teeming with interest. “I thought you were heading home, Yuuri?”

Yuuri glances between him and Pauline; ‘It’s completely up to you’ is what his expression says whenever his eyes fall on Victor, and after a momentary back and forth, Victor relents, giving in to this...whatever ‘this’ is.

“Yuuri’s staying with me. We have a few things to discuss, apparently.” Pauline gives them a cheeky ‘Mmhmm’ and Victor rolls his eyes. “It’s just business.”

“What he said.” Yuuri agrees, and the flush about his ears doesn’t go amiss. “Can we get some more coffee, and maybe something to eat? How do you feel about pizza, Victor?”

“Oh, I'm not hungry.” Victor waves a hasty hand, only for his stomach to release an aggravated growl of protest. The last thing he ate was a spoon of peanut butter at two p.m., and any further statements to the contrary will only be met by more betrayals from his body. “Okay. Why not?”

Pauline grabs an extra mug from the counter, pours Yuuri a cup, and refills Victor’s own. “One large pie with everything?”

“Sure!” Is their simultaneous answer.

“Then I’ll be right back.”

Yuuri smiles, and motions to the booth. “Is it okay if I sit?”

It’s such an odd thing to ask; what if Victor says no, would Yuuri conduct this impromptu meeting standing up? Judging from his continued sincerity, Victor imagines he would. He looks at the coffee billowing next to Yuuri, and thinks back to all the times he's been asked that exact question. By the nuns at his orphanage, teachers, school counselors, other men...He could map the trajectory of all those conversations before they they started. But with Yuuri, there’s nothing but a blank page, inked pen suspended over the paper to preserve their time, not predict it.

It’s refreshing, so much so that he doesn't spare it much thought when his heart gives an irregular hop as he bows his head and says “Yes”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and love welcome <3
> 
> [Follow me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/AlexWSpark)   
>  [Find me on Tumblr](https://alexwspark.tumblr.com/)


	4. When I Met You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the cotton candy to [Aj](http://ajwolf84.tumblr.com/) for the beta <3

It’s well after midnight when Yuuri cruises through the city, its solitude almost tangible in the light that streaks along and into his car. It’s an ephemeral greeting of shapes and colors, and every so often, Yuuri sees dozens of them parading on silver in his peripheral vision. Victor dozes in the passenger seat, arms folded against his chest, breathing slowed but still heavy, as though he’s pushing a rock up a mountain, even in sleep. It seems to Yuuri that Victor’s accustomed to falling asleep at any given time and in any number of unusual places, body attuned to stealing bare minutes if it has to so he can keep going.

Yuuri smiles on his tenth (twelfth? Twentieth?) glance at Victor. He’s happy, to say the least, to see Victor’s head curled into his shoulder, as uncomfortable as it looks from this angle. Yawns were abound during their meeting, and the majority of them originated from Victor. For someone who sent such a cold front his way after his less than decent outburst (Yuuri carves a line across the steering wheel with his nail, mentally slapping himself for scaring Victor with ‘I need you’), Yuuri is grateful for the ease between them now. It’s a fragile thing, hastily taped together by the possibilities in Yuuri’s proposal, but it’s enough.

Yellow flashes into red, and Yuuri stops at the light, taking a deep breath as he studies Victor’s sleeping form. The last hour or so went extremely well, with Victor reading excerpts from a few video game scripts that Yuuri keeps stored on his personal cloud. From the thrill of Uncharted 2, to the apprehension of Bioshock Infinite, to the quirky exploits of beloved platformers like Ratchet and Clank, Victor recognized most of them, and the ones he didn’t only required a quick Youtube search to familiarize himself.

“I live at St. Joseph’s, the retirement home next to the church, and one of the seniors brought her first edition Super Nintendo when she moved in a few years ago. Talk to me about Donkey Kong, Chrono Trigger, and A Link to the Past, and I can answer any question you have. I’m a little out of touch with the newer games and consoles because I only play demos at Best Buy when I need to relax, and that's few and far between.” Victor shrugged. “Time’s never really on my side since...forever, I guess.”

After that matter-of-fact delivery, Victor went on to nail every single character Yuuri tested on him. With each success, supported by Yuuri’s occasional direction and a constant stream of praise, Victor loosened the tensions he had built around himself. As Yuuri replays those moments in his mind, it dawns on him that Victor’s initial challenge about the audition wasn’t for a lack of self-confidence, but him wanting to know he earned the approval. Victor isn’t a one-trick talent, but his brilliance is obscured by walls as high as they are thick. He’s straightforward, blunt, unyielding even, and his ‘what you see is what you get’ attitude is as much a solemn defense as it is a shout of certainty.

At the end of a polished-off pizza, and the dregs of lukewarm coffee, Victor was smiling (small, wavering, but a smile nonetheless) as Yuuri gave a synopsis of what the morning would entail. Yuuri would talk to Minako, and while Victor submitted some mandatory paperwork, he would have the audio techs setup for his reading. It wouldn’t be a strenuous audition, Yuuri assured, and considering the state the studio was in, a decision could be made instantaneously at his and Minako’s discretion.

“You really think I have what it takes to bring your project to life?” Victor showed Yuuri his phone, and the Wikipedia page he was skimming. “Your studio won Game of the Year four times. You all are legends.”

“We can go through another script, if you want?” Yuuri waved his own device, and for the first time since they met, Victor laughed along with him. He seemed surprised by the sound, coughing into his fist and averting his eyes to the empty mug still cradled in his hand. There’s no denying that Victor’s a hard-worker, and critical to a fault. Too critical, but who is Yuuri to judge him for that?

A car honks behind him, and Yuuri startles, shaking his head at the green light he was oblivious to seconds ago. He makes a left turn towards St. Joseph’s, and doesn’t see the pothole in time to avoid it. The car bounces, and Victor whimpers but he doesn’t stir any more than that. Yuuri is tempted to drive around for the rest of the night until Victor wakes because the thought of pulling him from sleep when they get to the retirement home makes him unusually sad.

That very dilemma comes to pass a few minutes later; Yuuri parks outside the home’s gate, and turns to Victor with a regretful exhale.

“Victor? Hey, Victor? We’re here.” Yuuri says, hands in an awkward mime as he debates touching Victor to alert him of where they are.

“Five more minutes.” Victor murmurs, chin sinking further, hair fluffing against the seat of the car. Yuuri bites down on an appreciative giggle. This is all...rather adorable, and Yuuri is thankful for the trust placed in him. In all honesty, Yuuri didn’t expect Victor to say yes to his offer of a ride home. Perhaps he did a better job of salvaging that ‘I need you’ than he thought. Yuuri sighs; he really won’t let himself off the hook for that one.

“Victor.” Yuuri tries again, a little louder this time. “You’re home.” He reaches out hesitantly, fingertips gentle on Victor’s hand, counting down from ten as his nerves sizzle and spark. But Victor doesn’t jolt awake suddenly, or flinch away from his touch; to the demise of Yuuri’s heart, Victor tugs at his fingers, folds them into his palm, and holds on tight.

Yuuri closes his eyes and doesn’t dare shift, a veritable statue now that Victor has commandeered his hand. There’s a slight tremble about Victor; he’s so cold even though Yuuri turned the air-conditioning off on his request, and his jacket is zipped all the way to his throat. Yuuri wants to ask him why he’s so battle-worn, wearing this rusted and dented armor day after day. It’s none of his business, he doesn’t know the man, but…

“Y-Yuuri?”

“Victor.” Yuuri blinks to see him staring at their joined hands. “You’re awake.”

“I...I fell asleep?” Victor mutters. “I don’t usually...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He extricates his hand, and looks around. “Oh. How long have we been out here?”

Yuuri fiddles with the gear stick, and unlocks the car doors with his free hand. “A few minutes. You drifted off the second you sat down in the car, though.”

“Really? Hmm. Thanks for the ride.” Victor says softly. “I might have fallen asleep on one of the benches on the way here if it wasn’t for you.”

“No problem. It was the least I could do since I'm the one who kept you back tonight." Yuuri smiles. "I’ll see you at the office at ten a.m., okay? If you’re running late for any reason, just give me a call. And no suits please. We have a very casual dress code.”

“I don’t own a suit.” Victor faces the door, but Yuuri can see the way he stiffens, as though he’s bracing for something awful; he lingers for one beat, two, and when Yuuri remains helplessly silent, Victor lets out a long breath. “Ten a.m. it is. See you in the morning, Yuuri.”

Victor hops out of the SUV, and walks to the gate, glancing curiously back at Yuuri who waits until he's safely inside the compound and out of sight before driving off.

The warm beat of Yuuri heart feels like relief and heartburn. There’s no reason for it to feel like anything else, is there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and love welcome <3
> 
> [Follow me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/AlexWSpark)   
>  [Find me on Tumblr](https://alexwspark.tumblr.com/)


	5. Finding the Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the zzZzzs to [Aj](http://ajwolf84.tumblr.com/) for the beta <3

Victor doesn’t believe in much. He and his friends at the retirement home did get a good laugh out of the fortune cookies that came with the takeout Vinaya sponsored some weeks back. His own said ‘The love of your life will appear in front of you unexpectedly’, which was fairly derivative of every fly-by-night clairvoyant ever. Olivia and Vinaya rebuffed his negativity, latching onto him, and declaring themselves his dates for the rest of evening. Fortune fulfilled! Or so Victor could dream, with the wise, sometimes sensational words of two incredible women spurring his imagination along.

But morning always comes, and with it the perpetual gulf in his chest.

Growing up in a Catholic orphanage did little to sway him towards any epiphanies either. Not that the nuns there didn’t give it their all. He attended mass every week for more than a decade, until one Christmas when he turned fifteen and couldn’t get out of bed, objecting voice hiking a trail of sobs. The idea of leaving his problems in the hands of some invisible force was one he couldn’t no longer stomach. It wasn’t like it brought him any comfort, what with the nightmares he confronted every time he closed his eyes, and the self-administered quiet he retreated to as the years went by. His defenses became as solid as the punch he threw at another kid who tried to undo his braid in the crowded high school cafeteria.

He still prides himself on that expulsion.

It’s different now that he’s older, and surrounded by such a motley crew. That anger, the shrill _brnnnnnnng!_ of a broken alarm that plagued his life for so long is mostly repaired, thanks in large part to Yakov, and the doting elders at the retirement home. It’s a long-term project, a kaleidoscopic patchwork over his not-so-broken heart, slowly patterned by himself and the people he dares to call his family.

Said family will all be greedy for a story in the morning, sure to flock to him while he scrolls through his Google alerts. He doesn't mind the teasing, not when it comes from them, but besides the audition, what really is there to tell? Even if Yuuri’s opening line was Oscar worthy, Victor hardly considers him gossip. Sure, Yuuri’s quite attractive (the stray whipped cream that he flicked from the edge of his mouth ten minutes into their meeting was less gross and more endearing than Victor anticipated), and an expert in his field. Most importantly, Yuuri is convinced, and resolutely so, that Victor will land a definite headshot in his upcoming audition.

Why does Yuuri think _that_ when he knows next to nothing about him? Victor doesn’t have an answer, and maybe it’s better to take Yuuri’s candor at face value and not overthink the implications, if there even are any. The least he can do now is give the best of himself, and hustle a decent paycheck out of it.

He thumbs at his eye, stretching towards the stars as he yawns, looking over his shoulder to where Yuuri’s car was parked more than a minute ago. The last time Victor thought about anyone with this level of care was when he snuck into a veterinarian's back office to shelter from the rain after a night of aimless walking and refusing to go back to the orphanage. His company, a gorgeous German Shepard with a penchant for licking, showered him in fluff after he set her free for the hour he was there.

Unlike animals though, it takes time, years even, for him to become comfortable with people. All of his friends at the home can vouch for that; Yakov, bless him, could write several books on the subject. There’s a whole process map for being in the same space together, or sharing a meal, or revealing anything about himself. Yet, he just did all those things with Yuuri. And their hands...Victor rubs hard at his nape, and sighs. It’s best that he forgets that unimpressive lapse in motor functions, especially since Yuuri was gracious enough to let it slide.

All in all, and suspense aside, it was a good night. Victor can’t remember the last time he had a slice of decent pizza or stretched his vocals outside his usual box of impressions. And the chance to do it for an actual AAA video game? He’s excited, cautiously so, but his mouth curves and there’s a frivolous skip in every other sleepy step. Yuuri and _Atomic Heart Games_ might be a temporary presence, but it’s undoubtedly a welcome departure from the chaos that is his everyday life.

Judging by the home’s dark windows, everyone seems to be down for the night. Only the lights above the wrap-around porch, and inside the small lobby are illuminated. He smiles; it’s more than likely that Lilia left the former on for his benefit, and that assumption is made reality when he spots the resident nurse leaning against the entrance.

“Welcome back.” She smiles, wrapping her shawl more securely around herself. “You were the talk of town earlier. We didn’t expect you back tonight.”

Victor barks an easy laugh. “I'm sorry to disappoint, but all I did tonight was have a pretty good conversation with someone at _Aurene's_. That's it.”

Lilia gives him a mischievous look. “Is that what you call it these days?” She gestures inside as Victor rolls his eyes. “Go get some rest. You’re in for a long interrogation over breakfast.”

“I expect nothing less from those three. Thanks for keeping the lights on, Lilia. Goodnight.”

He shuffles to his and Yakov’s apartment, letting himself in as stealthily as he can. The initial room is hopelessly cluttered with a small kitchen, one medium-sized wardrobe, a single, threaded couch that doubles as his pull-out bed, and the chest of drawers next to it. Yakov has a small enclosure to himself, behind a thin panel of plywood. When they moved into the home, he tried to persuade Victor to take that larger bed for himself, a discussion that quickly fizzled when Victor pouted his way through it.

Victor smiles at the memory, filling himself a glass of water, and shucking off his jacket and jeans with another massive yawn. He rests the drink next to his bed, and crawls face first onto the covers, gathering the pillow into his arms, eyelids heavy and mind wandering.

"Good night?”

Victor glances in Yakov’s direction; he should’ve known better than to think his uncle was asleep. “Surprising, to say the least. His name is Yuuri, he works in video games, and he offered me an audition. I'll tell you and everyone about it in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sleep well, Uncle Yakov.”

“Mmm. Victor?”

“Yes?”

Yakov shifts, and there’s the rustle of sheets and scrape of books still turned on their pages. He reads every night, burning through a backlog that was left to gather dust while he recovered from a minor heart attack a few months ago. “I might not be able to bend that far to reach the drawer you keep the bills in. But you don't have to lie to me about it. You shouldn't be shouldering all of this worry on your own.” He draws a shaky breath. “Lean on us. On _me_.”

Victor bites into his lip, rests his head in the crook of his arm. “I know. I'm sorry. I didn't...I don't like disappointing you.”

“I don't like disappointing myself either, but yet I still forget to pour the cereal before the milk.” Yakov chuckles, and Victor’s cheeks are wet for the second time that night. “I'm here for you. Don't ever forget that. Please.”

“I won't. I _haven’t_.”

“Good. On another note, should I be in the market for a shovel?”

Victor rolls over, smearing tears on his sleeve. “Compared to the guys that have approached me in the last year, he’s a saint, and thanks to him, I might actually be able to do something enjoyable for once.”

“Hmm. That sounds really good, Victor.”

"It does, doesn't it?” Victor says, flexing his left hand and, despite his promise to himself not to dwell on it, wondering why Yuuri hadn't pulled away from him earlier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and love welcome <3
> 
> [Follow me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/AlexWSpark)   
>  [Find me on Tumblr](https://alexwspark.tumblr.com/)


	6. Worth It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the Hyrule adventures to [Aj](http://ajwolf84.tumblr.com/) for the beta <3

Minako leans forward with the beginnings of a smirk, chin resting on top of her clasped hands. “You met him. In a diner.”

“I should call Pauline right now, and have you repeat that to her.” Yuuri folds his arms, foot tapping a humorous beat. “‘A diner’. Honestly, Minako, have some respect.”

“I’m just repeating the facts of your case, Yuuri.”

“Well, anything is bound to sound cynical when you say it like that.” Yuuri clears his throat and mimics her inflection. “‘I met him. At an ice rink’. See? Instant hellscape.”

Minako tosses her head back, laughter permeating through her office. “You have a point. But I’m trying to be practical here. A quarter of the studio are still in varying states of recovery from the laryngitis outbreak, and it’s an obstacle course out there, with everyone trying to keep track of all the moving parts.” She nods towards the floor, and to the staff huddled there, all of them alternating between the frying pan and the fire. “I’ve always trusted your judgement, but I have three replacements for North ready to audition at the agency’s recording studio, all of them with good credentials and recommendations. So…”

Yuuri knows that tone, and he knows it well. “Victor is worth it. And I know me saying that isn’t a convincing argument, but his voice _will_ prove it and he deserves that chance. I’ve already called ahead to Georgi and his on-call audio tech team, and he agreed to discount the session-”

“In exchange for?”

“It costs the studio nothing. My deal with them is between me...and my red pumps.” Yuuri’s lips twitch as Minako shakes her head, obviously entertained. “C’mon, Minako. Give him ten minutes in the recording studio. Five, if you want. I promise that you’ll hear what I did last night.”

“Mmhmm. And are you willing to put your ass on the line for him? Are you willing to tie your reputation to a stranger you met at _Aurene’s_?”

It’s not a callous question, or a deterrent from his bold sprint into her office, his encounter with Victor spilled in one exuberant breath. This is professional courtesy, yes, but Minako is also his friend, and she’s raising a figurative eyebrow to a very significant business decision, one that she’s never seen Yuuri make in this impulsive kind of way.

“Yes. I am.” With the image of Victor in his mind, twirling a finger around a wavy tuft of hair as he devoured lines from Transistor, Yuuri voices his endorsement without a shred of uncertainty. Minako smiles, intrigued, and satisfied.

“Okay, Yuuri. Have Georgi setup for the recording, and submit it to our sound engineers so they can add it into the corresponding scene in the game. Make sure you include a strong justification in the paperwork for us sourcing talent outside of the agency because this is highly unorthodox as is.”

Yuuri already has an extensive statement drafted on his laptop; transparency is key to ensuring that other studio executives don’t crawl out of the woodwork to scream ‘favoritism’ at Minako. “I’ll send his details to you within the hour.” His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he fishes it out, smiling down at Victor’s message. “He’s at reception.”

Minako waves him away, and Yuuri mouths ‘Thank you’ before making his way out of her office and through a throng of his coworkers. He smooths back his hair, and steps into the elevator, tapping away at an email as he makes what he believes is the slowest descent he’s ever experienced to date. After an eon of biting his nails, and correcting one too many grammaticals in his message, the doors slide apart, and he spots Victor in the lobby’s waiting area opposite. He’s hunched over, elbows pressed into his knees as he reads from his phone, hair still damp at the ends, and curling along the shell of his ears and over his forehead.

Victor is yet to notice him, and Yuuri takes those spare seconds to thoughtfully observe his new acquaintance. He’s undeniably beautiful, something Yuuri took for granted last night and isn’t so sure he should be acknowledging now. But there’s no understating the carefree muss of his hair, or the precise cut of his jawline, or the set jewels that are his eyes. It’s a sense of discovery that sweeps through Yuuri, a ship that rockets from his feet to wobble a knee and tug at the corners of his mouth.

“Morning, Victor.” Yuuri calls to him, prompted from his trance by the sudden buzzing in his hand from his phone. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yuuri, hey. Good morning.” Victor looks up and waves, sliding from his chair and strolling over. He pockets his hands in well-worn jeans that underlines a fluffed black sweater, and falls into step with Yuuri towards the elevator. “I hope I didn’t pull you from anything important. I’m a little earlier than I should be.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “You’re in good time, don’t worry.”

“I walked too fast, I think, but it was either that or a food-fight over breakfast.”

“A food-fight?”

Victor brushes some unruly locks behind his ear, and Yuuri has the pleasure of seeing a few of them stubbornly pop from the position. “I have very energetic friends at St. Joseph’s who you’d never believe their ages if I told you. And despite my very reasonable explanation for last night, they seem to think I was on an adventure and threatened to test my reflexes with boiled eggs if I didn’t ‘spill the tea’.” Victor’s cheeks are as pink as the decorative ombre that rains down Yuuri’s left sleeve. “I really hate that expression.”

Yuuri ushers him into the elevator, leaning against the railing as they ride to the designated floor. “Well, breakfast is the most important, and in your case, the most extreme meal of the day. It would’ve been a live action reenactment of Food Ninja.”

“I wouldn’t put it past any of them to have a sword or any number of things hiding in their closets. They made me laugh, at least.” Victor glances at Yuuri with an embarrassed shrug. “I was nervous about the audition this morning.”

“Were you?” Yuuri frowns; he should’ve listened to his gut and called Victor as soon as he got into the office. “You could’ve messaged me.”

“Why?”

“Because…” Yuuri trails off, staring at Victor’s genuinely confused furrow and the tense line of his shoulders. “Because that’s what I’m here for, considering that I sprung all of this on you less than twelve hours ago. And I wouldn’t have offered you the audition if I didn’t have every intention of supporting you through the process, and that includes any apprehension you might have.”

“Oh.” Victor says, and the edge of him dulls considerably. “I’m accustomed to people telling me to smile my way through things like this.” He rolls his eyes, voice going dry. “Apparently, and I quote, ‘I’m more beautiful when I smile’.”

“Bullshit.” Yuuri counters. “You’re beautiful regardless.”

Like a story that begins writing itself, so too does Yuuri’s filter take charge of its spontaneity. Victor tilts his head, and Yuuri braces for what he’s ninety-nine percent sure will be a swift reversal of the elevator, and Victor’s back to him as he bolts out of the building.

“Is that your thing?”

Yuuri blinks. “What?”

“Three words. Saying them like they’re a certainty.” The only indication that Victor isn’t upset with him is the red that flourishes down his neck, and Yuuri breathes deep, clamping down on his runaway heartbeat.

“To be fair, that was technically four words.”

“I really don’t understand you, Yuuri" is Victor's eventual response, quiet and vague and oddly contemplative. 

“That’s not the first time I’ve been told that.” Yuuri gestures to the floor as the elevator opens for them. “Welcome to _Atomic Heart._ “ Inquiring eyes fall on them as they walk through the crowd, and Yuuri catches Chris’ small ‘O’ of curiosity from the Production hub as he directs Victor into his office. “The folder on the desk is all yours. It includes a non-disclosure, which I should warn you now is extremely long and incredibly boring.”

“Aren’t they all?” Victor swipes the folder off of Yuuri’s desk and takes a seat, foot tapping on the flooring as he begins flipping through the particulars. Yuuri finds himself glancing at Victor’s hand for no good reason, so he walks around his desk and busies himself with the schedule on his screen. Soon, Victor is scribbling his signature across the papers, and handing them back to Yuuri with a determined smile.

“Would you like anything before you start? Coffee? Tea? Energy drink? Potion?”

Victor snorts. “I'd take the potion but somehow, I don't think that follows standard. office etiquette.”

“You'd be surprised. But if you're sure, I’ll go ahead and hand you over to our audio team. Their lead is Georgi, and while he can be a little eccentric, he gives excellent guidance. I promise, you’ll be in good hands this morning.”

“I kind of thought I already was.” Victor murmurs softly, and Yuuri has to undo the entire section of the team calendar he just accidentally deleted.

“Give me call afterwards, if you want. I’d love to hear what you thought about the process.”

“I will.”

“Ready?” Yuuri asks, even though he already knows the answer; Victor might have courted the jitters earlier, but he looks primed for a challenge as he locks eyes with him, ocean blue an incoming tidal wave. 

“I’m ready.”

 

* * *

**The next day...**

Yuuri shuffles into one of _Atomic Heart's_ small conference rooms where Minako, Chris, and their Sound Director, Mila, are waiting for him. He crunches on the last bits of a granola bar, tossing the wrapping into the bin while everyone closes their laptops and silences their phones, eyes following him expectantly as he makes himself comfortable.

“Okay guys, let’s try to make this short and sweet. I know we all can use some stability, but most importantly, I have a poodle in need of spoiling.” Yuuri cracks his neck and sets up the clips from the game on the screen in front of them. They all depict a particularly emotional scene, a turning point for the main character and his animal companion as they stumble upon a side-character in the crumbling train station. “We had four auditions yesterday. As they’re listed in the email is how I'll play them here, and you all can make your notes accordingly. Just so we’re all refreshed, here’s a piece of Nolan North’s recording that we had completed for this sequence.”

Their original voice actor’s urgent tone fills the room, intersped with low growls from his German Shepherd, and after a few seconds, his colleagues nod for him to continue.

“Moment of truth. Here are our candidates.” Yuuri goes through all four recordings, rewinding and pausing when requested. His face is a mask, stomach flipping and flopping as he catalogs everyone’s raw expressions and reactions. Noses are decidedly turned down during the first two, while the third gets an indeterminate ‘maybe’. On the fourth, puzzled gazes are aimed his way, and Mila is the first one to speak up.

“I think you played North’s own twice, Yuuri.”

Yuuri, warmed to his fidgeting feet by the assumption, and by Minako’s growing smirk, says, “I didn’t.”

“Wait…” Chris breaks into a wide grin. “No. It can't be. There is no possible way that we're _this_ lucky.”

“I second that. Play it again.” Mila demands.

Yuuri does as he’s asked, and both Mila and Chris are on their feet, fists pumping the air at the sound of one Victor Nikiforov.

Mila beams at him. “Please tell me this isn't a dream. Please tell me that this Victor is real because I haven’t slept since this crisis started.”

Minako is beside herself, laughter etched into her dimples. “Well, if there are no objections, I think this settles it.” There’s a jubilant and awed round of ‘hell yes’ and two thumbs up. “Alright, carry on guys. I’ll let the higher ups know we’re headed back on track. And good work, Yuuri. I look forward to meeting our new protagonist.”

Yuuri quivers with excitement at that. He can’t wait to see the look on Victor’s face when he finds out the good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and love welcome <3
> 
> [Follow me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/AlexWSpark)   
>  [Find me on Tumblr](https://alexwspark.tumblr.com/)


	7. I Dream of Yuu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the Manic Panic to [Aj](http://ajwolf84.tumblr.com/) for the beta <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a minute and I'm so happy to be back here <3 Love you guys, hope you enjoy!

**Yuuri K.** @katsukiyuuri - 1h

We clean up pretty well! Watch our segment with @polygon as we react to some of your comments on the recent teaser. Note: that is definitely not wine in those mugs and we are all definitely sober! @christophegee @nolan_north @TheClaudiaBlack

 

Victor taps the link on the tweet, splashing a few water droplets on his cellphone in the process. He thinks nothing of it, focus now mostly removed from the sinkful of suds and dirty dishes and instead, fixed on the buffering video. Yuuri sits with three other persons, all of them on high stools with a tablet in-hand as they rotate between reading fan tweets and succumbing to bouts of infectious laughter. Victor’s own burgeoning smile is impossible to rein in with every silly turn of phrase, the collective struggle to pronounce certain Twitter handles, everyone nursing stitches including the Polygon staff in the background…

...how effortlessly Yuuri carries himself in that cool leather bomber jacket, expression a crisp breeze on a scorching day.

A mug tumbles from his hands, and Victor starts at the discordant blend of glass, ceramic, and metal as the lost dish rolls to the corner of the sink. He regards the thing with a weak huff, grabbing hold of it and giving it a final rinse before depositing it in the rack and reaching for a plate next. It’s no embellishment really, the things he noticed about Yuuri at _Atomic Heart_ ; the things he learned that morning perusing Twitter and Youtube. There’s just something so... _spellbinding_ about the man; the vibrant intensity of him, the smooth contrast between that and his undemanding smile, how brilliant he apparently is…

Victor sighs, glancing at the now finished video. He clicks another, navigating between his own uncompromising interest in learning more about Yuuri, and the restless pinch about his body as though he’s covered in clothespins. Yesterday was so surreal as is. Yuuri wasn’t joking when he said the audition would be a speedy affair; what felt like hours turned out to be just over thirty minutes with Georgi who, despite being exceptionally chatty, was not nearly as annoying as he could’ve been. Victor thinks he did well, so impressed with the script given to him that his eagerness usurped his nerves.

There’s no way for him to know exactly how well, though; not until Yuuri contacts him which Yuuri promised he would as soon as he knew something. It was the last conversation they had, across the road from the _Atomic Heart_ studio, in a tiny cafe that seemed to have sprung right out of the building’s foundations. The barrister spotted Yuuri and immediately presented him with two sleeved takeaway cups, one of which he gave to Victor with that beautiful smile of his.

Victor reached for his wallet, but Yuuri firmly shook his head. “Consider this my way of saying thank you. And before you tell me that you should be the grateful one, while I’m not disputing that, I want you to understand that what you did for me and for the studio today is worth way more than a cup of coffee.”

Victor presses a soaped plate to his forehead, grinding his right foot along his left heel. Why is he even entertaining all these thoughts? Why is he acting like he’s never auditioned for anything in his life? Why is he smiling so much when he can feel the nervousness dragging under his skin?

And _why the hell is Yuuri Katsuki so handsome?_

“Uh. Victor? Why are you making out with the cutlery?”

Victor spins to see Olivia watching him amusedly from the doorway, her folded arms displaying a psychedelic swirl of long-acquired ink. He slides the plate into the sink, scrubbing his face against his arm, hoping he can blame his heated cheeks on the relentless motion.

“I was thinking about something and I got carried away. Is something wrong?”

“Not at all. We just need you out here, sweetheart.”

“But the dishes–”

“Oh, they can wait, trust me.” Olivia waves a hand, smile much too innocent for his liking. He washes his hands and dries them on a nearby dishtowel, pocketing his phone as he follows her outside to the relatively uncrowded common area. Yakov and Vee are conspiring at one of the two seater dining tables, while Lilia and Alfred sit on the couch close to the shuttered windows. Victor’s best guess as to what he’s walking into would probably be far from reality, as it always is with this bunch; their shared little smirks aren’t entirely helpful either.

“Well, don’t you look well-rested. Invigorated. Youthful.” Yakov claps his hands together and Victor stares at him dubiously.  

“That’s really nice of you to say, Uncle. But it won’t make your bowl of oatmeal that Vee’s been hiding behind her back disappear.”

Vee bows her head and reveals the delinquent food, apologetically setting it in front of Yakov. “I tried but, in my defense, nothing gets past Victor.”

Yakov rolls his eyes. “Fucking oatmeal.”

“It’s good for you.” Victor insists, eyeing his friends questioningly. “So, is someone going to tell me what’s going on?”

“We might need to get the popcorn first.” Olivia says contemplatively.

“I will gladly share my oatmeal.” Yakov grumbles.

“This requires much more than just a casual snack, don’t you think?” Vee points to Alfred. “Is there anything left in your stash?”

Alfred looks at a bemused Victor and coughs a hearty snort into his hand. “I have a few bags of gummies and a couple boxes of chocolates, yes. But I think Victor has had a long couple of days without us getting in the way. Let’s not keep the young man waiting.”

“Young man?” Victor chuckles, momentarily distracted. “You haven’t called me that since the day we met, Al. What's the occasion?”

Lilia clears her throat, and glances over her shoulder. “You might want to direct your attention to the car park.”

Victor shrugs and walks next to Alfred, thumb and index finger parting the blinds so he can peek outside. He hones in on a familiar metallic blue SUV and propped against it in that selfsame bomber jacket is…

“Yuuri?” Victor’s heart tug-a-wars between disbelief and delirium. “Oh my God, they’re _adorable_!”

Vee and Olivia dissolve into giggles as Yakov squints and asks: “Is he talking about the man or the poodle?”

“Both.” Says everyone else in unison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos and love welcome <3
> 
> In case you don't know, I've left both Twitter and Tumblr, so feel free to reach out in the comments <3


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